


Some Assembly Required: The Schematics

by MrFancyfoot



Series: Putting It All Together [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Desecration of a Sacred Place, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Gratuitous Artistic Liberties, Holiday Cheer, Humor, Magic freestyling, Modern Girl in Thedas, Non-Inquisitor OC, POV Multiple, Sex Magic, Silly hats, Sleep Groping, Solas is Fen'Harel, Spoilers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrFancyfoot/pseuds/MrFancyfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unincluded scenes, prompts, and drabbles for Some Assembly Required.</p><p>Lengths and ratings will vary.  NSFW chapters will be marked with * .  Details, any additional tags, and warnings will be included with each chapter at the beginning.</p><p>Here for the filth?  See chapters: 3(ish), 5, 13</p><p>Now taking prompts!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smoke.  Wilderness. Magic.

**Author's Note:**

> A side piece to Some Assembly Required for scenes and prompts that probably won’t, but may, be a part of the main fic. Some is just stuff that I thought up later and don’t want to jam into past chapters. So, yeah, not a standalone fic.
> 
> I don’t plan on going in any particular order, so if you’re reading SAR, be forewarned, there may be spoilers. Most can probably be considered “canon” for SAR, but there will also likely be quite a bit of silliness that’s way out there. Lengths and ratings will vary. As always, I will mark any that are NSFW for those of you avoiding or specifically searching for such material. ;]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first "chapter" is for the three-word prompt #34 “Smoke. Wilderness. Magic.” courtesy of 3wordprompts-blog-blog.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Word Count: 400  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin, Solas

“Oops.”

Today she was practicing fire magic for the first time. An announcement that had her bubbling over with excitement - and a little apprehension. Fire was cool and all, but pretty inherently destructive. Solas had told her that she’d likely have an easy time of it since electricity, typically the harder element to master, had a similar learning curve for which she had a knack. It was also an extremely useful magic to have out in the field. He wanted her to have the basics of its control down before they left for anywhere.

And he was right, fire also came fairly easy to her. Too easy, actually. She had _no_ problem summoning forth fire. The issue was toning it back. And _turning it off_.

Casting a simple fireball from her staff looked more like she was wielding a flamethrower.

Which wouldn’t have been a huge deal had she not hit a section of the logs that made up the outer barricade of the Haven fortress. A simple fireball would have just left a scorch mark. Her accidental flamethrower actually caused them to catch fire and begin burning, smoke spiralling up into the sky.

Solas was quick to put out the flames with a throw of his own magic. A small avalanche of conjured snow now blanketed the logs thickly as the smoldering died down.

He stared at her looking quite exasperated. Likely regretted this choice of practical study so soon.

She grinned crookedly in apology.

“Perhaps a staff that is not the Mage equivalent of a mere child’s toy would better suffice for your control.” He let out a heavy sigh and began walking out towards the forest that surrounded the frozen lake. “Come, we shall take your training further out and away from anything that can catch fire at Haven.”

“Leave it to me to hit the one flammable thing out here in the middle of nowhere,” she tried to joke, though she felt awful about how little control she had. They’d have to find another large clearing, which would be much more difficult in the forest. There’d be more trees around to get hit by wayward fire, but at least they weren’t important structures.

“Ah, well, let us try not to burn down the _entire_ forest while we are out here.” The twinkle in his eye revealed the teasing nature behind the serious tone to his voice.


	2. Angel with a Shotgun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Challenge 02: “Angel with a Shotgun”
> 
> Courtesy of prompt 01: "Bullet" on http://towriteprompts.tumblr.com/onewordprompts
> 
> Word Count: 150  
> Rating: T  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin

When she’d first come here, she’d called them lucky since they hadn’t yet advanced to the technology required for firearms like guns.  But the more she fought off rogue Templars, territorial hedge Mages, and predatory wildlife, the more she began to yearn for it.

Her magic could get the job done, but it was so drawn out, so amature and sloppy.  Enemies often took multiple injuring spells and several minutes to pass on.  It was rare that she felt any ill will towards them - she merely acted in self defense - so she felt remorse in their deaths.  It pained her to have to kill another.  While avoided where possible, it was becoming a more frequent occurrence in this harsh world.

That was what really drove her to become stronger, to learn more powerful magic.  If she had to kill, she’d at least ensure swift death to those that she could.


	3. That Bathing Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So often I read drabbles and stories of Lavellan or some character stumbling, and consequently, spying upon Solas bathing. While always fun, I thought to do a little switcheroo. Solas is all control, except when he’s not.
> 
> Set sometime a ways into the future from where SAR is now.
> 
> From prompt 04: “Resurface” - http://towriteprompts.tumblr.com/onewordprompts  
> Word Count: 800  
> Rating: M (NSFW-ish)  
> POV: Solas  
> Characters: Solas, Bevin  
> Themes: Bathing, voyeurism

The forest here was dense with much needed herbs for their supplies.  He had set out to replenish their supplies, namely of elfroot, and bring back whatever small game he happened to come across in the meanwhile.

His task was fairly mindless, nearly numbing by itself, so his thoughts drifted.  He should not have been so careless for he had not realised how close he had meandered to the shallow river near their camp.  He had only looked up at the sound of nearby splashing.  In the back of his mind he had known that she had chosen to take this time to bathe, but it still took several moments to register what he was seeing.  In those several moments, he stared, transfixed by her actions.

Rising up at the waist from rinsing her hair, she drew her fingers along her scalp to flip the drenched mass back over her shoulders.  Rivulets of water rushed down her slender shoulders to drip off her ample bosom and continued down to her stomach.

Stumbling upon her had wholly been an accident.  Continuing to spy from the shadows had not.

When had he been reduced to such behavior expected of a pup whom lacked all self control?

He knew he should not watch, yet he remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away as she continued on, oblivious.  He may have had the better judgment to conceal his presence out here while paying little attention to his task, but he evidently lacked all sense to leave now.

It was unconscionable to be intruding in this way.

But his self-admonishment fell only on a mind more preoccupied with following those delectable curves.

She turned fully then in his direction, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.  The evening sun glinted dully off the metal jewelry embedded at her collar as she made her way slowly, leisurely towards the shore where her items neatly lie, revealing ever more of that pale flesh.  Her hips. The swell of her ass. The thickness of her thighs.  Opening a bottle, she poured an amount of the liquid contained into her hand and rubbed her palms together briefly.  She then smoothed them back through her hair, fingers ensuring to coat each long strand.  Another liquid soon followed, poured onto a cloth and brusquely scoured into her skin.

The soap glistened in the fading light, slowly slipping down her body until she walked further out once more and dove beneath the surface to rinse.  She came up - he’d call it teasingly so if she knew she had an audience - pushing her hair back from her face and giving a tantalizing little shake of her body to whisk the water away.

Branches rustled and cracked nearby, causing him to snap out of it and duck further behind the tree.  Only feet away a ram stepped through the growth, walking forth and pulling at flora without delicacy or pickiness.  Its eyes found his, fearfully halting all movement, before dashing off.

A heavy static in the air was all the warning he got to _move_.  She appeared silently below the branch he now rested upon, wisps of mana still drifting off of her form, excited electricity climbing and twisting up her arm in prepared attack.

Right.  He _had_ taught her how to Fade-step.

She lingered there a moment - long enough for him to be able to catch the light scent of her soaps - eyes and ears focused on the ram still noisily fleeing through the underbrush.  After she cast her eyes about a last time, he watched as she relaxed and retreated back to the shoreline.

Completely, brazenly nude.

Droplets of water still clung to her.  Hips swayed with every calm, assured step.  He had to grip the tree harder when she paused to stretch her arms high over her head languidly, her shoulders and back rolling through the movement as her toes curled into the grass.

He found his hand drifting ever lower, itching to relieve the growing, problematic bulge in his pants, but he at least had the restraint to take care of such matters elsewhere.  The thought of relieving himself a scant distance away from where she bathed unknowing of his presence made him feel dirty.  It was sobering enough that he managed to force himself to finally depart the area.

Though disappointed in himself for falling to the status of some gawker, he would not be so foolish as to try to tell himself that he would _not_ be reimagining her body for all that he would do once she came to him.

* * *

 

Throughout the whole time spent secretly gazing upon his infatuation from beneath the trees where he hid, he never did notice the sly grin on her lips whenever she turned away.


	4. A Foxy Look for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 2nd /r/fanfiction "pint sized" prompt: Who's Who at the Zoo - Someone gets turned into an animal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, ahoy! This prompt is courtesy of the Fanfiction subreddit's current "Pint Sized Prompt" thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/55c7jw/pintsized_prompts/
> 
>  
> 
> Word Count: 100  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin, Mythal

Bevin fell forward over her own feet. Everything suddenly seemed much bigger around her, much louder, much...smellier.

 _"Mythal - what just happened?"_ she screamed at the spirit living in her head.

 _"You seem to work best under pressure. I figured this would be the fastest way for you to learn transfiguration!"_ the elf said smugly.

With dread, Bevin stumbled to the tall mirror. An unhappy red fennec stared back at her, nose twitching in aggravation. She was due at a meeting in less than two hours!

She...had the compulsion to chase her tail.

 _"Better get on it!"_ Mythal sang.


	5. *Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bevin gets rather handsy in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Kink Meme fill! I had to get this out of my system. Can’t really say it worked… I've trimmed down the prompt a little here for the relevant parts. I'd consider this canon-ish for SAR as it's within the realm of possibility since Bevin's already established as being a rather cuddly sleeper. Post-Haven, pre-relationship on the general timeline.
> 
> Word Count: 1673  
> Rating: E  
> POV: Solas, Bevin  
> Characters: Solas, Bevin  
> Themes: Dubious consent, sleep groping, handjob
> 
> Prompt ([link here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/16500.html?thread=63974772#t63974772)):  
> "The Inquisitor and their companions are used to sharing tents in pairs. [...] It has become an accepted fact the Inquisitor tends to latch onto whoever is sharing the tent with them. So the companions tend to draw straws or take turns sharing a tent with their cuddly Inquisitor.
> 
> Que one night the Inquisitor has a rathern... amorous dream while cuddled up to their companion and gets wandering hands in their sleep. Now the companion is at an impass of what to do. Try to wake the deeply asleep Inquisitor and face that awkward conversation. Call for help and face the embarrassment of being seen in that position and the Inquisitor's shame over something they didn't even realize they were doing. Or try to keep quiet while the Inquisitor's dream runs its course and pretend it never happened in the morning. It would be a lot easier for the companion to think without the Inquisitor's hand in their pants!"

Over the months that they had spent travelling together he, along with everyone else, had noticed a certain proclivity for Bevin to become...clingy at night.  The group typically slept two to a tent.  Though they were rather small, the tents still provided enough space for most everyone to sleep without being pushed up all together.

No-one had the heart to tell her to stop or make her sleep alone, so they often ended up covertly drawing lots or otherwise trying to skirt around sharing a tent with her.  The situation made the others uneasy.

He wasn’t sure that she even knew the extent of her problem.  While she had shared his bed frequently in the past, she had never been this inclined to sleep so close.

He had really only avoided sleeping at the same time as her, choosing to take other watch shifts, to avoid her ever complicating presence within the Fade.  He had few qualms with her finding comfort in his presence, though he feared the others would get the wrong idea if it became more commonplace.  While he might have desired a relationship with her, he did not wish it to be under the mercy of scrutiny and gossip from others.

Solas sighed.  Looking down, his eyes fell upon the arm clutched tightly around him.  She had somehow managed to maneuver her way completely onto his bedroll, dragging her blanket along with her.  Within it, a leg was tangled between his own.  He could feel her breaths upon his neck as she pressed closely to his back.  He had already tried slipping from her grip only to have her tuck in and further entangle them both within their blankets.

She would be mortified if she knew.

She needed to stop squirming against him.

He kept telling himself that he was at least lucky she was behind him and not in a position to see or feel exactly what this was doing to him.  Doing his best to ignore it, he closed his eyes and tried to resign himself back to the Fade until morning.

His eyes opened once more at the soft hum she made into his ear.  He let out a groan, partly of frustration, partly of arousal.  Sleep would not come to him like this.

Solas moved again to unhook her from around him so that he could place a more acceptable amount of space between them.  Managing to catch her arm, he turned to face her, forcing her leg to part from his in the shift.

She let out a sound between a whine and a whimper, quickly slinging her leg over his hip.  He lost his grip on her arm, and she curled into him again.  Her other hand now fisted into his shirt.

At some point within the moment this took place, the hand that he had first managed to move had found its way under his shirt.  He sucked in a breath as she drew it down his chest and over his side where she tightened her grip, nails digging lightly into him.

He felt himself breathing harder.  She nuzzled her face into his collar with a very contented purr of a moan.

This was becoming very precarious, but he found it difficult to think through all of his options.  She was not awake and could not know what she was doing to him.   _Fenedhis_ , the scent of her own growing arousal was getting to him.  All she wore was the thin dress normally under her outer robes and the scraps of fabric that made up her smallclothes.

He wanted nothing more than to reciprocate, but even given her amorous attentions, she was not in the mind to actually consent to such a thing.

The moral dubiousness of _allowing_ a slumbering woman to unwittingly molest him in her sleep was a quandary that would have to haunt him later.  Right now, her hand had slipped lower and was stumbling through unlacing his breeches.

Removing her hand from that venture, he grit his teeth, biting back another curse.

She turned her face up to press open-mouthed kisses to the underside of his jaw.  This action only proved to distract him from her left hand moving to stroke him heavily through the much too thin, yet constraining fabric of his leggings.

Maybe letting this run its course would be the fastest way to get out of it.  In hindsight, perhaps he should have woken her before it got this far.  Waking to a slightly compromising position rather paled to this now.  Willpower waning, he released her right wrist from his grip.

Sensing his acquiescence, her hand joined the other, returning to its task of tugging at laces.  He was rewarded with a soft nip to his jaw.  He buried his face into hair and inhaled deeply, allowing himself that one thing.

After several moments, he heard a low growl of frustration followed by harsh pulls to his breeches.  Evidently, not an easy task to undress someone whilst asleep.

“ _Solas!_ ” she mewled, setting an excited shiver searing down his spine.  Was she dreaming of _him?_

Bevin let out a particularly angry grumble, and he felt magic flowing to her hands.  Eyes widening, he hastily grabbed her wrists and flipped her to her back before she could burn his breeches right off of him.

Somehow still deeply asleep, she rolled her hips against his while trying to pull her arms back.  Not seeing an end to this as it was and unable to think past the bulge in his breeches, he rolled off of her and freed her hands once more.

He rubbed his palms over his face.  She had followed his movements, sidling up to his side.

When she stilled for several moments, he wondered if she was finally satisfied.

Solas allowed his eyes to slide closed, every bit intending to finally return to the Fade and banish the rest of whatever dream was left lingering for her mind to encourage her hands to act upon.  Altering dreams in such a manner, especially pleasant ones, was not something he would normally condone, but it was that or he feared he would lose the self control to not seek more from her in such a vulnerable state.

He was promptly prodded awake once more by her wandering hands.

Fingertips glided over him down to his thigh and back up to dance over his stomach.  If he tried hard enough, he could ignore her teasing and fall asleep briefly to follow through on his current plan to dispel this fantasy.

It might have worked had her hand not then found its goal down the front of his pants.  Not loose enough yet for her to pull him free, but plenty of room for her small hand to fit.  Done with the light touches and teasing, she stroked down his length with a tight grip, causing him to hiss through his teeth.

One of his hands twisted into the material of his bedroll, his other arm was slung over his eyes.  She may not have had much space to move in the constrained space, but she didn’t need it to keep up her slow pace.  Her fingers passed over the head of his member, spreading the fluid that had already gathered at the tip.

Breathy sighs into his shoulder spurred him on further.  Unable to prevent himself, he bucked his hips into her hand.  He was already frightfully close to his end.  Any other time, he would stave off his climax, but this was too much for him.  He had been without the touch of another for far too long.

His undoing came after she reached up to run her teeth down his neck, pausing to suckle at the skin meeting his shoulder.  He muffled his moan with his hand, afraid that it might awaken not only her but rest of the group.

Spent, he dragged her hand away from her continued stroking.  He groaned again feeling his seed covering her fingers, then scowled at it soiling his breeches.  He’d have to get up to clean both of them.

Keeping a tight grasp of her wrist, he used his foot to drag his satchel over.  He filled a small bowl with water and found a cloth to dip and rinse her off.  Letting her go, he ducked away from her as fast as he could in order to remove his leggings.

As he cleansed and dried them and himself, she fitfully took over the entirety of his bedroll searching him out.

The fog of arousal lifting, an idea came to him as he slipped his clothing back on.  He caught her wrists to prevent her from latching onto him again and lifted her.

Solas settled her back into her own bedroll after drawing fire glyphs under it.  When she made a noise of discontent stretching for him, he reached over and folded his blanket in on itself, then shoved it into her arms.  She immediately sank her face into it and calmed.

Letting out a breath, hoping this this would keep her content now, he returned to his own bedroll.  Not even particularly yearning for the Fade, he just desired the restorative properties of sleep by this point.  He would have to figure out a way to address this latest development.  But later.

* * *

Bevin yawned, blinking drowsily.  It was still dark within the tent, so not yet time to get up.  What woke her up?  Looking around, she noticed she was ensconced comfortably in multiple blankets.  She only had one of her own.

Peering over at Solas, she saw that he slept only upon his bedroll.  Had he given her his blanket?  But it was so cold out!  She couldn’t let him sacrifice his own comfort like that!

She sat up with a huff, pulling the blankets off of herself.  Bunching them within her arms, she moved over to where he slept.  The blankets were spread over him widely enough for both of them, and she crawled close behind him.  Another yawn escaped her as she settled back in for the rest of the night.


	6. First Frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fill for r/fanfiction's December 1st [mini prompt:](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new) "First Frost - Winter just arrived and your character(s) are stuck out in the cold.”
> 
> Words: 100  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Nichole (female human Inquisitor) - though could easily be Cassandra or maybe Sera.

She rubbed at her frozen nose, passing secret jealous glances at the band of too cheerful Mages riding alongside her.

Dumb pride made her decline their numerous offerings to bespell her armour to keep her warmer as they passed through the chilled wind and snow. Not only were they in mountainous terrain, but winter had come to Thedas. Angrily.

“There’s a storm coming!” someone yelled.

Sure enough, as they moved to build shelter beneath a rocky outcropping, visibility sharply diminished as winds and snowfall picked up.

Her shoulders slumped with her groan. This was going to be along trip.


	7. Regifted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas wears Bevin's gag gift with a bit too much pride for her liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love this one and may flesh it out more later. <3
> 
> Prompt courtesy of [r/fanfiction's Dec 2nd mini prompt:](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new) "Put On - Nothing says the holiday season like wearing ugly sweaters! Or silly hats! Or maybe those pants Aunt Mayble made you out of potholders... ;D"
> 
> Words: 200  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin, Solas, Cole  
> Theme: Holiday cheer

The holiday season was here and - believers, nonbelievers alike - Skyhold was rife with excitement and lifted spirits for Satinalia. The day meant no expense spared for a mighty feast and festivities.

Gifts were being sent to the Inquisition from all over Thedas in hopes of gaining favor or elevated esteem. Some were exceedingly lavish, others of remarkable gaudiness.

Bevin deemed several being thrust at her as just outright questionable. She had humorously regifted - fancy paper, ribbon, and all - a wide brimmed, elaborately feathered hat to the resident elven apostate.

To her utterly baffled horror, he had taken to wearing it. Everywhere.

She hoped that he would cease upon receiving her actual gift - little cakes lovingly baked and set from an experimental hodge-podge of every recipe she could barely recall after bribing cooks and Josephine for the selection of ingredients required.

He did not.

Solas said that he’d never spurn a gift from such a dear friend but would wear it with pride.

The day of Satinalia, however, she watched Cole stand to the side with an ecstatic grin on his face. He stroked his fingers with awe over the long feathers and stitching before pulling the hat onto his head.


	8. Just Desserts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r/fanfiction's December 4th [mini-prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new): “Naughty - Holiday treats shouldn't be messed with, and yet here we are.”
> 
> Words: 200  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Bevin  
> Theme: Holiday cheer

Bevin had had enough of a certain someone stealing and making off with her treats as fast as she made them.  The cooks were too busy to apprehend the thief.  At this rate, there wouldn’t be any for the feast!

These next batches looked as appetizing as ever but were filled with heat and bitterness.  Brownies made with elfroot, cookies and bark dusted with hot spices.   _Someone_ was going to learn her lesson.

The spicy chocolate bark actually wasn’t half bad, she thought to herself while popping a freshly chilled bit into her mouth and turning to the ovens to rotate everything.

Without looking, she knew the elf had taken the opportunity to tip-toe into the kitchens and nick something else.  Bevin guffawed upon hearing Sera violently spit out her bite of whichever sweet and curse loudly from the corridor.

Later, Iron Bull came knocking on the back door of the kitchens - with a request for more of the cookies that “set his mouth on fire.”  Sera had pawned them off on him as a joke, not thinking anyone would actually _enjoy_ the things.

She supposed she’d be making more of those, too, then.  She gave him the whole batch.


	9. Tinsel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r/fanfiction [mini prompt for December 9th](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new): "Decorations - Put up some decorations today!"
> 
> I'm a bit behind on these, so y'all get a few all at once!
> 
> Words: 100  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Solas  
> Theme: Holiday cheer

He’d noticed upon exiting his bedroom that Skyhold had been transformed overnight.  Decorations were strung everywhere - pillars, sconces, doors, railings.  From the murmurings of other residents, he’d learned that a number were unfamiliar, telling him one or - more likely - both of their “earthlings” had their hands in it.

Solas sighed, eyeing the large red bow hanging from his desk.  Garland and tinsel were strung around his painting scaffolding.  Not even here was safe from their efforts.

Before he was able to sit, the Herald marched up behind him and shoved an odd red and white hat over his head.


	10. Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r/fanfiction’s [mini prompt for December 8th](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new): Whirl'd Peas - 100 words - A (disastrous) miscommunication.
> 
> Words: 100  
> Rating: G  
> POV: Nichole (f!Inquisitor)  
> Theme: Holiday cheer

Nichole groaned, laying her head against the table.  She’d gone to Bevin to figure out what she’d done wrong  _ this  _ time.  Bevin was plainly exasperated, but not at all surprised, much to her chagrin.  So, here she sat through another lecture on racial sensitivity.

Half the holiday traditions she’d grown up with came off as offensive to Thedosians.

Mistletoe - called something she couldn’t remember - was bad luck.  Santa’s helpers were caricatured slaves.  Elf on a Shelf was a no-go.  Solas had scowled when told the tradition behind the red and white Christmas hats she’d made.

_ “Elves aren’t fantasy creatures here.” _


	11. To Remain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r/fanfiction's [December 6th mini prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/5fvnxr/daily_prompts_monthly_events_december_2016/?sort=new): "Cozy - 100 words - [Picture prompt](http://i.imgur.com/Z2aVey9.jpg)"
> 
> Words: 100  
> Rating: G (T-ish?)  
> POV: Solas  
> Theme: Holiday cheer

Solas watched the fire dance from where he lie in the bed.  They had retired to her room from a night of Satinalia festivities.  After having her fill of the feast and the warm cider she’d brought back, she had quickly fallen asleep in the midst of their conversation.

Her soft breathing lulled him, but he wasn’t of a mind to fall asleep just yet.  His desires bid he enjoy this a little while longer - her soft breathing, the weight of her on his chest, the feel of her skin beneath his fingers.

He wished they could remain like this.


	12. A Foxy Look for You, Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers ahead!
> 
> A continuation of "A Foxy Look for You" (chapter 4). This is pretty much canon for SAR now, so I may flesh it out more or alter some for the main story. Maybe just reference parts of it, idk yet. I'd currently place it before the Winter Palace stuff on the timeline.
> 
> Word Count: ~2200  
> Rating: M?  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin, Solas, Dorian, Nikki  
> Themes: Nudity

It had been over an hour and a half, and Bevin still hadn’t had any luck in reverting back from this fennec form that Mythal had forced her into.  It would help if she had any idea what was done to change her into this form, but the elvhen spirit wasn’t spilling.

There was a knock at her bedroom door, causing her ears to perk.  She ran over to the it and squeaked out a bark.  At the hesitation, she scratched at the door.  If she couldn’t figure this out, she’d go find her two resident nerds for help.  The only thing really stopping her from doing so earlier was her current tiny stature.

The door finally cracked open.  Bevin forced her way through by her nose, running between the feet of the startled servant.

Not thinking, Bevin ran towards the stairs.  It hit her as she was flying off the top most step that this was definitely a skill she took for granted as a human.  Missing her target stair, she proceeded to bump and tumble her way down the rest of the flight.

She staggered to her feet, surprisingly unfazed.  After a shake of her head, she took on the next flight at a much more subdued pace.  That was until she heard the hurried steps coming down behind her.  Looking back, the servant was hot on her heels in a panic.  She picked up her pace, now trying to weave beyond the girl’s grasp.

She yelped when the girl made a particularly forceful grab for her tail, but was quickly released once more.

Finally at the bottom of the stairs, Bevin was relieved to see that the door had been left ajar here.  She flew through it and ran into the Grand Hall.  Taking a moment to catch her breath and reorientate herself, she looked around.  Now, more than the past hours, it felt as though everything was huge and far away.  People stood scattered all around.  The noise and smells assaulted her nose, making her queasy.

She snuck forward, trying to get to her destination without causing a stir.  Dashing under a table, she watched as the servant staggered by, still looking for her.  She probably assumed that she was some pet kept away in her bedroom.  She certainly didn’t look like the average wild fennec with her well kempt red and cream colored fluffy fur.  Bevin would have been quite pleased with this form had she been able to change at will.

Sitting back on her haunches, Bevin surveyed the movement of the room.  The heavy door to the rotunda was usually kept closed, so she’d have to sneak by with someone else again.  Varric sat nearby, if she could get there, she could hide out under his claimed portion of the table.  At least if he spotted her, he probably wouldn’t immediately shove her back into her room or anything else.

During a lull in the room, she carefully eased her way to the other side of the room, slowly so as not to draw attention.  Or tried to.  She didn’t quite make it to her destination.

One of the nobles she toed past wore a dress with dangling ribbons and bows with accents of gold and shiny gems.  Wide-eyed she watched their movement, transfixed.  She stopped herself only as she saw her paws raising up to bat at swaying ribbons.  Horrified at herself, she shook her head to snap out of it and bolted to her original goal.

She didn’t have a chance to catch her breath again as she watched the rotunda door open.  Taking the chance, she ran over and wove her way into the room between what seemed like several pairs of feet.

Solas was found sitting at his desk, though all she could see were his legs and wrapped feet from this angle.  She walked forward and around the table to where he sat.  Still not getting his notice - he looked deep in thought reading something - she timidly patted a paw against his leg.

He glanced over, not seeing her at first, then sat back fully and looked down.  His brows flew up in surprise before settling in a confused frown.  He stared for several moments.  “Bevin?” he breathed.

Her tail wagged.

She backed up as he moved to stand.  Crouching in front of her he looked her over, reaching out to feel her fur and run his fingers over the ridge of her ear.  “I, for one, would say that your transformation is quite remarkable.  There are no faults that I can tell, apart from your rather...unique coloring.  Though I have heard that many individuals able to shapeshift often retain telltale markings from their original state.”  His thumb passed over the darker smudges of red fur on her cheeks.

Her ears flattened to her head.  Damnit.  He thought she had come to him for some kind of approval.  She let out a frustrated whine.

He had the gall to smirk.  “You are stuck, aren’t you?”

She looked away.

The next moment she was being lifted and plopped on top of the table.

“Well, let this be a further lesson to you that one must fully think through their spells with care,” he admonished with no little amount of humor and ‘I told you so’ in his voice.

“You keeping a pet now, Solas?  I hadn’t thought you the type.”

Her ears drooped, and she let out a sigh.  Dorian peered down at them from the library above, grin on his face.  She felt a grumble build up from her chest.

Solas chose to ignore the question and posed his own, “Dorian, have you ever explored transfiguration magic?”

He shook his head.  “No, but some childhood friends did to rather...disastrous ends.  One may still have a nug’s tail.”  He shut his book and set it aside, his full attention gathered.  “Why do you ask?”

Solas merely gestured towards her.  She gave a greeting yip, and that was when Dorian pieced it together.

He quickly stood from the cushioned chair he’d been reading in and strode away towards the stairs.  Moments later he was standing over her, looking at her the same way that Solas had been.  “This is Bevin?”  He corrected himself, directing the inquiry to her, “You’re Bevin?  Most fascinating!”

“Although her skills have progressed to the point of where she can attain and hold this form,” he sat back down with a chuckle, “it appears as though she did not consider how she would revert.”

Dorian let out a hearty laugh.  “You don’t know how to turn back?”  Not bothering to hold back his continued giggling, he tweaked her tail.

She hissed and yanked her tail back.  He responded by bopping her nose with a finger.  The annoyed flick of her tail from the corner of her eye had her diving backwards to pounce on it, her eyes going wide when she realised what she had done.

The Magister looked as though he could barely contain himself.  “You’re not going to live that down.”

Bevin was beginning to regret this.  If all they were going to do was tease her, she was better off back in her room.

“If worst comes to worst and you are well and truly stuck, there is a spell to force someone back into their original state.”  Dorian stroked his fingers over his mustache in thought.  Scowling he added, “However, by all accounts, it is rather painful.”

Bevin flinched.  She was an utter wimp about pain.

“Is the process not the same as transforming into that form?”  Dorian posed a reasonable inquiry.

Well, maybe it was.  But that was only helpful if she actually knew _how to get into this form._  She cursed the cackling god in her head.

What other options did she have?  She really didn’t want to attempt asking Vivienne...

“Within what literature did you find the spell?  Perhaps there is something there.”  And, of course, Solas was more than keen about where she’d even find such a spell.  Not that any such tome or papers existed here, to her knowledge.  Of anywhere, though, it would probably be found down below in the archives that made up her office.

Though she couldn’t get _there_ without assistance, either.

“ _Mythal!  C’mon, gimme something to work with here!”_ she begged again.

Perhaps she’d had her fill of watching her struggle, Mythal finally gave her an actual answer, “ _In order to attain the desired form of something else, one must be intimately familiar with all aspects of it and use that familiarity to shape the Veil around them.  It is an advanced distortion of reality.”_

Okay, back to the basics.  Utilizing magic was enforcing your Will upon the Veil.  For _this_ , then, that meant knowing a form so well that she could convince the Veil to change her form to reflect the desired one instead of reality.

Could she just “remind” the Veil that this wasn’t her reality?  Or did she have to fully mold and convince it to change her into her actual form?

Closing her eyes, she went to work on the latter.  Mentally reaching for the Veil, she concentrated on picturing herself.  Her arms and hands, shoulders, knees to toes.  Her height and structure.  How it felt to simply stand and breathe.

Bevin felt the tingle of magic on her skin.  Another breath in and there was an odd sensation of stretching - not painful, but definitely unique and a touch uncomfortable.  Like pouring into herself.

Opening her eyes, she immediately noticed that she was higher.  And colder.  Something still felt off, and she knew there _definitely_ was from hearing Mythal try to stifle her giggles.

A cough brought her attention to Dorian, who had turned away from her.

Skin catching her eye, she looked down to find herself completely naked.  She gave an annoyed hum, thinking that she probably should have expected this part.  Her clothes were in a crumpled pile in her room, after all.

Bevin adjusted her posture, turning and crossing her legs over the side of the desk.  More for comfort than any real sense of preserving modesty and someone’s delicate sensibilities.

“Unless you would like to explain to Josie the inevitable rounds of gossip that would stem from this were I to march back to my room in my current state, could you kindly retrieve my clothing, Dorian?”  And unless he was quick about it, that would happen no matter what.  “Also don’t need to give Varric any more material.”

“Should he see you with _those_ ,” he gestured with his brows, “I’m sure he’d have enough material for a whole new series.”

“‘Those’ what?” she asked, raising her hands to her head.  Then she felt them.  She still had the ears.

“And…” he lead.

And the tail.

Huh.

Dorian ducked out while she was feeling up and messing with her new appendages.  The ears had remained proportional from her fennec counterpart, so they probably looked oversized and ridiculous on her.

Nails slowly dragging through the base of her tail had her sucking in a breath as a bolt of pleasure shot up her spine.  Shoulders rolling back, she became frozen.  Fingers passed along the rest of the length of her tail with a flick, nearly drawing a whimper from her throat.

Mother _fucker_.  He might have been letting her take the time to decide on their relationship, but hell was he not making it easy to actually think it all through.  Stupid wolf.

Stupid wolf and his stupid pretending that he knew  _ nothing  _ of shapeshifting.

She glared at Solas with a pout and pulled her tail around her side.  Dorian was taking too long.

Thankfully, Nikki striding through the door just then would put an end to any further ideas on his part.

She stopped halfway to them, confusion dawning on her face.  “Why…?” ‘are you naked,’ was the rest of Nikki’s question.  The Inquisitor’s eyes flicked up.  “ _Why…?”_ ‘do you have fox ears,’ was the followup.

“Frankly, I just forgot about this part.” Bevin gestured down herself.  “Which is dumb considering how long it took me to climb _out_ of the heap of clothing.  Otherwise: magic.”

“I- yeah.”  Nikki shook her head.  “I came to talk to him.”  She pointed behind her towards Solas.  “You know we have a meeting, right?”

She shrugged.  “Just waiting on Dorian.”

“They’re gonna have a field day out there if they see you with cat ears,” Nikki pointed out, not that she needed reminding.

Her eyes rose, just barely able to see the tips of her ears if she tried.  “They’re fox.”  Part of her was upset that they’d very likely get the animal wrong.  “Not that they’d know.”  She felt them flatten against her head.

Dorian made his entrance again at last.  Bevin was quick to pull the proffered robes over her head, though didn’t bother with the leggings as there was no way they’d fit around her tail without discomfort.  From somewhere, he had found a wide-brimmed hat.  With her ears having a mind of their own, however, she couldn’t get it to stay on her head without holding it in place.

With a grumble of frustration and a bid to see Nikki in a few, she strode out of the rotunda, making a beeline for the War Chamber - the hat just had to work until she was safe there!

As was the theme of today, though, she felt ridiculous the whole way.


	13. *Irreverency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the [100 kink challenge](https://mrfancyfoot.tumblr.com/post/171534008299/100-kink-prompts) on my tumblr:
> 
> Request from Beckily for #76 -  
> Smutty/sloppy/dirty sex  
> \+ "it'd be a fun one to combine with one of them getting caught masturbating, combined with being very loud where others could hear them. Possibly in an inappropriate place :D"
> 
> Smutty in an inappropriate place with being caught and being loud - ahoy!
> 
> Word Count: ~1.8k  
> Rating: E  
> POV: Bevin  
> Characters: Bevin, Solas  
> Kinks: soloF, sex in a church/on an altar, a little overstimulation
> 
> Established relationship; no real reason it couldn't be taken as canon SAR, I don't think. - Maybe a little ooc for him at the end, but in my headcannon, he becomes quite a bit snarkier with her once their relationship is open with each other.

Days when there wasn’t mass or whatever the Andrastians called it - _worship_ \- the Chantry hall turned shared courtroom were surprisingly aplenty.  It was actually quite a nice place to sit and think or work on any of her piles of paperwork.

Or sit and stare at the stone ceiling as she lie there on one of the random pews she’d plunked herself down upon after this morning’s...antics.  She couldn’t really call that a judgment and barely even a case.

If she were honest, it felt weird to be back in a church after years spent avoiding them.  They never invoked pleasant memories.  But she worked here, and it had come to feel...neutral.

Bevin huffed and stretched her arms above her head, arching through to her toes, bare of the sandals kicked off beneath the bench.  The heavy Justice’s robes she wore always made her hot and sweaty - _why did they have to be so thick?_  She loosened the belt at her waist and let them fall open to cool herself down some, revealing her “less than appropriate” under attire.  Shorts, as one would know, were _quite_ scandalous.  They had at least stopped nagging her about baring her arms, however, choosing to weigh their battles.

Bevin was loathe to leave, knowing that soon after her feet passed beyond the threshold of the hall that she’d be swept up into more work.  She peered over the back of the bench, casting her senses out for anyone heading her way.

If someone had told her before that she would even entertain the thought of masturbating in what amounted to a church, she would have rolled her eyes and scoffed.  Even _she_ wasn’t quite so irreverent.  There had to be some respect given in order to coexist.

_But what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them._

Her fingers deftly slipped beneath the band of her bottoms.  Though she wasn’t yet wet, she could feel herself heating with a burn.  Fantasies tilled around her mind, her lover gone for seemingly _ever_ \- _it had been less than a week_.  She focused on him and their inevitable reunion.  After all, absence made the cunt grow fonder.

Her other hand absentmindedly stroked the roughness of the cushion over her head.  She could feel that high beginning to crest as she stroked herself through an increasing tempo.  A breathy moan escaped her lips, bitten back as a small part of her mind yet remembered where she was.

Her orgasm came quietly and softly like a summer’s breeze - refreshing, but still leaving her with an empty ache.  She breathed in deeply, focusing on the scent of wood and leftover incense smoke from the early morning offerings to bring herself back down.

Someone chose that moment to clear their throat and her eyes flew open with squeal of surprise.  Her hand pulled away from where she had still been lightly playing with herself and gripped the back of the pew with a quickness that she didn’t know she had.

Heart still beating in her throat, she giggled abashedly and grinned up at Solas as she pulled herself to sit.  “You’re back!” she exclaimed.  “And early, at that.”

“Indeed.  Now, I hope I did not interrupt your fun.”  Through his smugness, she could see the lust in his eyes lingering upon her.  He offered her a hand up which she took readily.  “Usually you are not caught so unawares,” he chuckled, pulling her to him.

“No, I’m glad to have you back,” she sighed into his chest as she embraced him.  Raising to her toes she nuzzled along his jaw, noting that his skin, chilled from the outdoors, had gained the warmth of someone who’d been standing within the heated hall for at least a few minutes.

He returned her embrace, pushing her shirt up her ribs to run his hands over her flesh directly.  She shuddered.  Thinking that this was what she was missing, the unique mix of essences that made Solas, Solas.  Even the bitter scent of elfroot that clung to him had come to feel homely.

Pulling her robes and belt back around her, Bevin made to pull him along with her to make it up to her room with as much haste as they could manage, but he didn’t budge.  His hands knocked hers away and  taking the belt from her, he dropped it haphazardly back onto the bench.  With fingers flexing to grip tightly at her waist, he pushed her back.

He guided her steps, catching her stumbles even as he turned his affections to nips along her neck.  His breath was hot on her ear as he slipped the robes from her shoulders as tossed them aside somewhere.

She came out of her haze momentarily upon feeling stone at her back.  Blinking, she looked back.  He stooped to lift her up and placed her upon the edge of the church’s altar.  The chill of the stone only just held at bay by the gaudy, red ceremonial cloth that covered and flowed from the sides of the fixture.

“Solas, this is a fucking alter!” she hissed in alarm after catching onto his intent.

He hummed humorously.  “Yes, it will be.”  Further protests were silenced by his lips on hers.  She didn’t require much convincing for her will to bend to his ministrations.  Her legs tightened around his waist as he moved up to her.

They both caught their breath as he pushed her shirt further up, teasingly running the backs of his hands along the bottoms of her newly exposed breasts.  Further ignoring them, however, he dragged the rest of the fabric off from over her head.

Her own hands weren’t unidle, but disrobing him was a feat under normal circumstances through the surprising number of layers he wore.  Bevin only managed to divest him of his outer robes and loosen the cords of his leggings.

He tugged insistently at her shorts, signalling that he wanted them gone from her.  Doing so required that she remove her hands from him to brace herself as he tugged them out from under her.

He swooped down to catch the bud of her nipple with his mouth as he stepped to her once more.  She tossed her head back with a gasp.  One hand kneaded the unoccupied breast while the other bruised her thigh in his grip.

Leaving her breast, he gave one last kiss to her neck before pressing her to lie back and straightening himself.  His eyes glinted in the dim mix of light from the few torches and stained glass as he regarded her openly.

She wanted to sit back up though the hand against her stomach prevented her from doing so.  He was otherwise still, head canted in wonder or thought, as he seemingly absently drew himself from the confines of his britches.

He stroked slowly along his hardened length.  Watching him, she could do nothing but lie there and squirm restlessly, running her heels up and down the backs of his thighs in an attempt to encourage him to touch her again.

Before she was able to voice her growing frustrations, he removed his hand from himself and pressed his knuckles along the lone, meager scrap of cloth still covering her sex.  She knew he could feel her slickness through it, spread from her actions earlier and only increased since then.

He pulled aside the fabric and thrust two fingers within her without ceremony.  She brokenly cried out at the sudden intrusion, reveling in the pleasure and sensation of being stretched.

“Best be quiet, my love, lest we alert curious ears,” he warned, clearly turned on by the thrill as he had the power to damper any noise from leaving their vicinity yet opted not to.  

Fingers curled, quickly finding the familiar spot that never ceased to make her whimper at his hands.  His pace was far faster than he’d normally work her up and her body responded by tensing and attempting to twist away, but she couldn't bring herself to object even as he stilled her hips.

Her hands instead twisted into the fabric beneath her, an attempt to ground herself.

It was as the dam broke that she came, biting back her moan so harshly that she tasted blood on her tongue.

She was given no reprieve, his cock entering her fully while her walls yet clenched and spasmed for the fingers no longer there.  A strangled breath ended in a loud squeal she was unable to hold, her palm slammed to her mouth too late to stifle it.  Her legs made to both pull him closer and shove him away.

Hand falling away, her voice came freely now, encouraged by the low groans of his own pleasure.  The edge of the altar was found by her fingers and she used it to better meet his thrusts.

He forced her knee back, changing the angle of her hips just enough that the cord within her nearly snapped again right then.

His thumb found the wedge of space between them to rub circles over her clit.  Within moments she was again breaking from the precipice with a silent call that remained lodged in her throat.  Eyes screwed shut as her head knocked back against the stone in a fading moment of ecstasy.

He pulled from her, palming himself with several quick jerks.  His seed landed in beads and ropes upon her heaving stomach and breasts.

Leaning against the altar beside her, he braced himself for the moment they took to enjoy the high.

“I'm sure that's absolutely what they had in mind for an offering,” she laughed incredulously.

Solas tossed the end of the red cloth over her, half-assedly rubbing away the stickiness with a tired smile.

Bevin stared at it dazedly, then sucked in a breath through her teeth as she jerked it up, suddenly hitting her through the sex fog that this was one of the ceremonial clothes.  She didn't even want to see the slop that she knew was beneath her because _that_ was still pooling out of her.  “Oh, _gods…,”_ she bemoaned. “Roderick is going to kill me.”

She sat up and hopped off the altar, gathering the cloth in her hold.  “Okay, if we burn it and toss the remains over the wall, I can pretend I never, ever saw this thing before,” as she said the words, the edges were already beginning to smoulder.  “No idea where it went.”

Laying the balled up cloth on the altar, she plucked the bits of her clothing from their various locations in the ground and redressed.

Her eye caught on the large wet stain darkening his relaced crotch, bringing heat to get cheeks again.  “Can’t burn your pants, though.  Maybe that's why you should wear less clothing when fucking. Maybe turn them inside out?  No.   _No_ , you are not walking out like that!”

He did walk out like that, though he had the good judgment to carry his pack in front of him.  Still, she kept a deliberate close pace to him as she lead him back to his quarters for a change.   _Then_ they’d ditch the Chantry cloth secreted under her robes.


End file.
